


Neuroses

by Kiraya



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon - Original Game, Dreams, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mindfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-10
Updated: 2006-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraya/pseuds/Kiraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Try as he might, Cloud can't avoid the things lurking in the dark corners of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 内部の対立 / Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Set during game before the end of Disc 1. Pronouns are often more vague than I'd really like them to be.

It was something he would never admit, but he came to fear slumber, and would avoid sleep as long as possible, taking extra shifts on the watch, only waking his companions at first light with a serious expression and dark circles under his eyes.

Sleep provided no rest for him.

But he could never tell them why, could never explain that when they forced him to retire to his bedroll to seek oblivion until morning, oblivion was not what awaited him, that _He_ came instead, robed in arrogance and glory, running those long graceful fingers over and through the fine threads of his soul like a master weaver, a skilled harper, a dedicated puppeteer.

The first time he had fought it, struggled with all his considerable might to escape from the imperious figure that filled his sight so menacingly, but he was like a helpless babe before His strength, dark smile pressing closer, heart-chilling cold like the winters of his hometown, blistering heat like the inferno that had consumed it.

 ** _Mine_** , the whisper came as He moved over and around and through him so it felt as if he were filled and surrounded by that terrible, wondrous power, as if he were a flawless extension of it. **_Mine Mine Mine Mine Mine—_**

 _No no no no no no no no no no oh please please PLEASE_ —

And he awoke hot and panting and messy and aching and full of shame, full of shame that something so fleeting could have such an effect on him, that something so horribly wrong could bring him such pleasure.

Sleep provided no rest for him, and so he avoided it whenever possible.

But no man can remain awake forever, and so it happened again, and then again, and then yet again — **_Mine Mine Mine Mine Mine, yes, yes, give this to Me, My pet_** — and then the fifth time He found something bright and beautiful and everlasting within his soul, something whose name neither of them could remember, and as the darkness licked at it tantalisingly it flared into brilliance and he cried out, reaching in desperation for that warm memory he could feel glittering just beyond his reach, closer than anything he had ever forgotten— **_ahhhh yes, yes, yes, yesssss, My precious, My pet, My chosen, this is MINE_**.

Sleep provided no rest for him, and yet he came to crave it like nothing else, and to hate himself for wanting it.

 ** _Mine, Mine, Mine,_** He would whisper afterwards, over and over and over again, long slim fingers running carefully through his sweat-damp hair, thin lips moving light and teasing over his skin like the feather-tickle of phoenix down, indelibly staining him with the hated and coveted memory of His touch, hated and coveted so desperately that it made him sick to think of it—

(and what would _she_ think if she were here instead of somewhere miles upon miles to the north, what would any of them think if they knew what he and their sworn enemy shared here in the deepest darkest corner of his mind when they had all settled down for the night and sought the false comfort of sleep?)

_**—hush, sweet, hush, beautiful one, My precious, hush, My lovely, Mine—** _

Hate and desire, hate and desire, hate and desire and, and something else, and he couldn't _stand_ the conflicting emotions—

 _But…_ some insidious part of his treacherous soul whispered—

(beautiful, so beautiful, thrilling and terrifying and intoxicating to be given such lavish attention by one such as He)

—wasn't this, in its dark and twisted and terribly wrong way, wasn't this acknowledgment just what he'd always wanted?

Wasn't it?


	2. 時の傷痕 / Amnesia

_**Do you know why I come to you, My pet?**_ He asked once in that rich deep dark voice of His, the strange jarring note in it making him shiver just as always. _**Do you know why you, the unnumbered one, the most reluctant of all My servants in the world, are blessed with My attentions more than any of the others?**_

 _"So, Cloud,"_ that not-quite-familiar voice that echoed in his mind asked (always the same faint phrases rattling around inside his skull, over and over and over again like some strange and broken recording). _"What are you gonna do…?"_

 _…I don't know._ The answer was for the voice as much as it was for Him; it was always always the same for the former, and yet some part of him knew the voice didn't hear it, never had.

And all the while He nuzzled at the velvet hollow of his throat, at the curve of his ear, His hair falling down around them like a curtain woven of mythril, the words of His quiet fervent litany different this time. _**You refuse to see it, foolish boy, but you have something that was once Mine. Yes, Mine, pet; until the time comes when we meet in the flesh and I take it once more for My own, keep it close, keep it safe, remember. Do not, do not, do not let it die, My precious, My lovely one—**_

_"Just kidding... I won't leave you hanging like that."_

And his stomach always clenched at that statement, and oh, some part of him knew, just _knew_ , that those words didn't mean what the voice thought they did.

 ** _Promise, my precious one,_** He whispered softly, softly against his cheek, **_promise to hold it close always, to never let it go, to never let it die; for his sake, if nothing else, promise me, promise me, promise me you'll remember—_**

_"We're friends, right?"_

And he looked up into the aristocratic face of the one he had once admired above all else, at the disturbingly lucid intensity of His half-lidded, mad Mako-green eyes, at the shadowy reflections they held, all the things he had loved and lost and forgotten.

And for reasons he could not fully understand, he closed his eyes and wept.

 ** _Don't cry, my lovely, my precious; soon you will come to Me, here at the end of the world, and if the Planet keeps you, you'll remember it then at the end of all things, one way or another, one way or another,_** He murmured, and He kissed the tears away as they ran hot and shameful down his face—

_"…Forget it. Just leave him."_

—cold and numbing like the rain and something else slicked the grip of his enormous sword, and oh Gaea what _was_ it, what was it and why couldn't he remember?

**_Time, time; just give it time and the truth will reveal itself—_ **

A smile, bitter and ironic, against his shoulder.

_**—Just give it time.** _


End file.
